


of gifts and giving

by soldiergame



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13169991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldiergame/pseuds/soldiergame
Summary: Giving gifts, Lyria finds out, is not as hard as it seems.





	of gifts and giving

**Author's Note:**

> written for gbfss 2017

For the longest time, the girl knew of nothing but the dull walls of the chamber she was kept in, and the clanking of machinery as the soldiers ran tests after tests on her. She had no past, no family, nothing but the blue gem in her chest that the Empire was so interested in. Her days consisted of a fixed routine, being tested left and right for one thing or another, and when she was not due for a test, staring at the ceiling of the chamber, idly wondering what else lay beyond those walls.

The soldiers that guarded her rarely spoke to her. Perhaps they thought she was unable to speak, perhaps they feared that she would turn her mysterious powers onto them, or perhaps they thought themselves above her, but either way, her attempts at starting a conversation often ended in failure. 

Who was she? What was she like before the Empire took her in? She had no answer. All she had to do - all she could do, was go through the same monotonous cycle, a cycle that would break when Katalina stepped through the chamber doors.

 

* * *

 

“I-I know now isn’t a good time, Lieutenant, but there was an error with the duty schedule, so your rounds have been shifted to the containment chambers instead…” the recruit in front of Katalina stammered, no doubt intimidated by her piercing gaze. “They want you to guard the primary chamber - the weapon inside it has been reported to be extremely docile and has responded favourably to the experiments so far.”

He slid a folder forward, and clipped neatly to it, a picture of the weapon she was supposed to be guarding.   
  
Something, she did not know what, caught in her throat. Katalina did not believe in fate, but she knew - it was at that moment, that it all began. 

They called her a weapon, a tool for the Empire, but all she could see was a young girl, with hair as blue as the sky, and glassy eyes unbefitting of a child her age.

Those empty, haunted eyes in the photograph made something in her twist painfully, and she gave herself a few seconds to regain her composure before turning back to the soldier.

“Very well. If that is all, you’re dismissed.”

 

* * *

 

The first thing anyone had ever given her was a name.

“Ly… ri… a…” she intoned, tracing the elegant letters with her finger as Katalina set a small stack of books down next to her.

“Do you like it?” the knight asked, “I know I’m not the best with names, but…”

And the girl - Lyria -  smiled, brighter than the sun itself, not because it was the first time she had been given a gift, but because she finally, finally had a name to call her own. She was no longer just ‘the girl’, ‘the weapon’ or ‘the subject’. She was Lyria.

 

* * *

 

The next thing Katalina had given to her was knowledge. Knowledge of the world that lay beyond the confines of the chamber. The knight snuck in books and other small contraptions that were easy to hide under a cloak or a cape, patiently taking the time to explain things that she did not understand. They sat down for hours, poring over books and maps, and she watched, fascinated, as Katalina described the first snowfall of winter to her.

(At night, she would stare at the ceiling and dream of travelling to a faraway kingdom - a place where she and Katalina were free from the Empire.)

 

* * *

 

One morning, Katalina rushed into the chamber, a handful of fresh snow cupped carefully in her hands. ‘This much… I can at least do this much.’

Lyria was enthralled, poking and prodding at the cold thing in her hands, before she gingerly scooped some up at Katalina’s urging. Her eyes glittered, filled with unspoken delight as she turned to face her, still holding the small heap of snow in her palm.

“Maybe one day… one day, I could go out and see more snow!” she said, and for the first time in her career, Katalina allowed herself to smile - a small smile, tinged with guilt (for she knew that the Empire guards its possessions closely, and that Lyria, with so much untapped potential and undiscovered power, would never leave its cage).

“... and I want you to be there with me, Katalina!”

(That night, Katalina swipes the floorplan of the research facility before retiring to her rooms.)

 

* * *

 

“Lyria.”

Katalina’s tone was dark, serious, nothing like the rich, expressive way she spoke when she described the bustling cities or the vast sky that surrounded them. Feeling a touch nervous, she closes the book in her hands and approaches the knight.

“Come with me, we’re leaving.”

(Katalina had given her many things. A name, knowledge, and now, the thing she wanted most of all - freedom.)

 

* * *

 

Lyria’s escape - like most things, did not go according to plan. And as she stares, horrified, at the fallen form of the boy who had given up so much to protect her from the soldiers of the Empire - a boy who knew nothing of her, yet still laid down his life for her, she feels the beginnings of something stir within the gem that lay on her chest. (It comes in a rush, leaving her no time to think - she can only act and pray.)

‘If if was born with this power to become a weapon - then let me at least use that power to save this boy.’

The first gift Lyria had ever given to someone was the gift of life - incomplete as it may be. It was a contract, entwining two fates that were not quite as different as she thought they were. Still, she remembers the suffocating, helpless feeling she had experienced when the claws of the hydra had ripped through flesh - and vows to use her power to protect instead of the destruction the Empire had intended it to be used for.

 

* * *

 

Travelling with Gran and Vyrn, she realises, is like watching the scenes from the books Katalina had read to her come to life - the bustling of the crowds and the waft of the sea breeze were all foreign to her. Each place they fly to has different things, different kinds of people, and she eagerly drinks in the sights and sounds that are presented to her.

Sometimes, when the nights are particularly cold, Gran would sit near the fireplace and speak of his father - a skyfarer who had vanished when he was still young, leaving nothing but a faded map behind. She notices the lilt in his voice, the wistful look in his eyes, combined with a fierce, blazing flame of determination.

‘Ah’, she thinks, ‘So this is courage,’ and when Gran turns to her, promising her that they’ll find the answers she seeks, she discovers something else flickering within those eyes, now mirrored in hers - a small, tiny ember of hope.

 

* * *

 

Gran, she soon finds out, has a habit of picking up ‘strays’. People are drawn to him, his bright, honest disposition throwing them off guard, and his skills and ability to make quick decisions earning their respect. Before long, they have enough people in their crew to fill the cabins of the Grandcypher, the flickering lights and friendly chatter every evening becoming a routine.

She watches Rackam and Vyrn’s antics, backs away with Gran whenever Katalina attempts to try anything in the kitchen, talks about the lands they’ve been to - and the ones they haven’t yet explored - with Io, seeks advice from Rosetta, and when she looks back to those cold, lonely days in the chamber, something warm fills her entire being. It is overwhelming, but it isn’t a bad feeling, she muses.

(Those once empty eyes were now alight with life, those unsure steps were now full of faith and courage, the future - once bleak and dull, became vibrant, colourful, filled with endless possibilities.)

They may not have realised it, but the crew of the Grandcypher has given her everything she could have asked for and more - a place to call home.

 

* * *

 

To Orchid, Lyria gives the gift of friendship.

In Orchid, she sees herself, a lonely girl whose sole purpose was to become a weapon of the Empire. Two sides the same coin. She sees the apathy and emptiness she was all too familiar with, and makes her decision.

She would be to Orchid like Katalina was to her - a guiding light, a shining beacon to lead her out of the darkness, anything, anything to fill her eyes with the light that now shone so vividly in hers. Her gift would not be wanted at first, nor would it be acknowledged, but she would try again and again.

Lyria speaks of the world that she has learned of - a wonderful, colourful world so unlike the chamber that held her captive for most of her life. She speaks of the crew she considers a family, of the many places they’ve been to, and the people they’ve met. She speaks of hard-fought battles and captivating tales of adventures into the unknown, of the primals they had met along the way.

Slowly, but surely, the dullness in those magenta eyes begins to fade away, replaced by curiosity and wonder. The Black Knight was wrong, Lyria thinks - Orchid is no doll.

When she sees Orchid ready to sacrifice herself for Apollo - part of her wants to reach out, to scream at her to stop, but another part of her understands - that to Orchid, this was the only gift she could offer to them, her final way of making amends. After all, she too, knows the helplessness, the suffocating feeling of being unable to do anything.

And when it’s all over - when Orchid is safe and sound, and Freesia’s plans foiled yet again, she turns to Lyria and smiles.

“Thank you,” she says, eyes bright and filled to the brim with life.

Giving gifts, Lyria finds out, is not as hard as it seems.


End file.
